


In The Blue Of Evening.

by TeamPie



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11455134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamPie/pseuds/TeamPie
Summary: Dean Winchester is stuck in the 1940's. After being stuck there for a year, the hunter decides to take matters into his own hands. Which includes meeting Captain America. Someone he's been a fan of since forever. What he fails to do is his research and things end up getting a little messy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I know the time is just a tad bit off, but I decided it fit better for this story. If that bothers you, I'm sorry.
> 
> I am super excited to post this first chapter. I have been planning this for months. I hope you enjoy reading it.
> 
> •••I do not own any of the characters associated in this story•••

The year was 1945. Dean had been stuck in this time period for a whole year. The first few months were easy, fun, and dare he say it.. Thrilling. But as the days went on, he couldn't help but think about his own decade. The one where he belonged. He missed his brother, Sam. Yeah, he had a partner to hunt with, but Eliot wasn't Sam. He wasn't family.

As lame as it seemed, Dean managed to write Sam a letter a day. Dear Sam this, dear Sam that. When are you planning on getting me the hell outta here? He only hoped his younger brother was working on it. Why hasn't Castiel tried to help out? That was one of the bigger questions on his mind. 

Another night and another bottle of P&T whiskey. He preferred Jack, but that wasn't made yet. This stuff wasn't smooth, and it only took a few random sips to get a buzz. Strong stuff. With a long sigh, the hunter rubbed his eye with the back of his hand; making an attempt to rub the sleep out of his eyes. He was tired. Dog tired.

This case of vampires had him beat. Without all the technology he was used to having, things were so much more different here. Slower. He needed to take a break. The text in the book he was using for research started blurring. Tossing the book on to the desk, the hunter stretched his arms over his head. Letting a groan out as he felt his muscles being pulled.

The last thing he wanted to do was read, but something caught those gorgeous hazel green eyes. There was a picture on the newspaper he had bought earlier that day. The hunters brows furrowed into a tight knit. "The hell ─" Reaching for the newspaper, he rolled it open. The front page headline read: Captain America Coming To Town! 

Truth be told, Dean knew all about Mr. 90 Year Old Virgin. Well, he wasn't exactly a 90 year old virgin in this decade, now was he? Nonetheless, he was a huge fan. Steve came second to Dr. Sexy. Dr. Sexy will always be at the top of the list for Dean. An idea was forming, the light bulb was shining brightly. That idea was the light in his darkness. The darkness he was currently in at the moment.

Meet Steve, have a fan moment, ask about any way of the soldier being able to send him back home. It was going to be a challenge, but it was something he knew he'd be able to get through without any problems. Because that's never happened before with Dean Winchester. Plans always went smoothly. That was a joke, the hunter let out a harsh snort.

"Forget about it. You will never be able to get to him, Dean." His tired mind was fighting against him. Now that was something he was used to. Letting out a yawn, the hunter crawled into bed. If he was really going to do this, he needed to be well rested to think clearly. With his head resting on a pillow, Dean let out a deep sigh. His eyes slowly closing as he soon fell into a deep sleep.

Four hours later and the hunter was up. Shaking off the nightmare he had just woken up from. Taking a glance at the clock on the wall, 8am. "Perfect." He mumbled to himself. Moving out of bed, another series of stretches and groans filled the silence that surrounded him. He wasn't one for liking the quiet, but he was starting to get used to it.. He had time to adjust being here. Days turned into months, and those months turned into a full year.

Things were about to change. This Captain America dude was gonna help him get back home. Dean knew Steve had to know the right people to make it happen.. Dude hung out with that Stark guy. Not Tony but his dad. The real deal. He was gonna fix this, no more waiting for Sam, and no more praying to the useless angel named Castiel. It was time to take matters into his own hands.

After a bath, Dean was out of that room in a matter of minutes. Pulling his keys out of his suit pocket, he walked up to a 1940 Chevrolet Coupe. No, it wasn't his Baby.. But he had no complaints about this car. Especially being it was handed to him. Turning the engine over, he drove to the big event. Surprisingly, he was able to get a good parking spot.

Pulling that fedora off, it was hot out here today. He might've been a little nervous too. Hazel green eyes scanned the area. It was a carnival, great. Narrowing his eyes, he took note of a stage being set up. He was slow to make his way over there, placing that fedora back on his head. Studying his surroundings, he was looking for someone in particular. A man in a spangly outfit. A man.. Pause. A man in friggin' tights?

This had him laughing. He couldn't help himself, the tights. The whole outfit, this was a joke, right? This couldn't of been the actual Steve Rogers. Who the hell-- Stopping almost immediately once what looked like to be a body guard interrupted his laughter. "You're here early, aren't you?" The stranger asked the hunter. Causing Dean to clear his throat.

"Press. Had to get here early to see spangle dork." Pulling out a faux press badge, showing it to the confused guard. It must of been the words he had used. Dean tried to stop himself, but there were just times where it slipped. This was one of 'em. After getting an okay, the guard left. With his brows furrowed, Dean sat through the entire show. It was painful. 

What the hell did he just watch? Dancing and singing.. It was excruciating. Here he thought he knew everything, and he was wrong. Wouldn't be the first time, but that didn't change the fact that he hated being wrong. His mind was starting to change about Cap. He was slowly becoming disappointed as the show continued. His favorite hero wasn't the guy he thought he was.. But that had to change sometime soon, right? Right.

Dean was going in blind here. He already had a one on one set up with the soldier. He wasn't as nervous as he was earlier. The show made this out to be like the joke it was. It was safe to say he lost that fangasm moment. Now this was just work. Which wasn't boring for him, but at the moment he was just filled with disappointment. 

Looking at the watch on his wrist, this imposter of the Steve he heard about was taking his sweet time. Some chick named Peggy said it would just be a few more moments. That was thirty minutes ago. With a rolls of his eyes, the hunter got up. This was a waste of time. Grabbing his hat, just as he turned around there he was.

In all of his spangled glory. "Holy shit ─" The hunter muttered under his breath. Those sky blue eyes, were almost enough to blow him away. He always had a thing for people with blue eyes. He couldn't stop the fangasm building up inside of him. It was the real Captain America. It was him. And he's approaching the star struck hunter. Dean, calm down. Dean. Earth to Dean.

"Hello, Steve Rogers. I heard you had a few questions for your local newspaper?" The soon to be hero offered his hand for a shake. Dean was completely dumbfounded. He didn't even notice the woman standing behind him. The Peggy chick he had met earlier had a look of concern on her features. It took Dean a moment.

Clearing his throat, he shook the soldier's hand.. Who in which had a very firm grip. Dean couldn't help but to let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. "Hi." Was all the hunter was able to manage to get out. He was killin' it. You're blowing it asshat. Clearing his throat again, Dean wasn't this little girl.. Get your crap together, Dean. God damn.

That smile on the soldier's face almost had him weak in the knees. "Sorry ─" Dean paused, "Dean Winchester. Yeah, I have a few questions. I know you're a busy guy, doin' all these musical type numbers. I'm not here to ask about musicals. I'm here to talk about Stark."

What Dean failed to do research on was Hydra. He didn't pay any attention to that crap. Which was a rather big mistake. This was making the hunter, who still had his hand wrapped around the soldier's look extremely suspicious. There were red flags here. The brunette was gone, where'd she go? Now confused, Dean was the one trying to get his hand free from the soldier's grip.

"What the hell, man?" Dean looked up at the soldier. And that was the last thing he had seen. A black bag went over the hunter's head. One punch to the face, and he was out. What happened next, Dean didn't plan. Hell, he didn't plan any of this. Tied up and being thrown into the back of a truck? So much for things going smoothly, huh?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean just wants to talk to the dude in tights, is that so much trouble? Dean just wants to go home, I don't blame him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had some help with editing this, thank you sooo much Ally. I loove you.
> 
> Second chapter, things are starting to get good. 
> 
> •••I do not own any of the characters associated with this story.•••

Dean was coming in and out of consciousness. "What the─ The hell─" Sounds were slowly coming back to him, the sound of being in a moving vehicle was bringing him back. In an attempt to move his arms, he couldn't. His hands were tied behind his back. He had the taste of iron in his mouth, things were a little fuzzy but they were coming back. Moving his wrists, he was checking how tight the rope was around them. It was definitely tight enough to the point where he couldn't get out. That didn't stop him from trying. 

If he could just make it loose enough to get one hand out, he'd be set. But soon things came to a stop, which caused him to stop for just a moment. Now working against the rope in a hurried manner, he heard voices. This would be so much easier if he could see, rubbing the side of his head against his shoulder; he needed to get this black bag off of him. Nothing was working out in his favor, and it only pissed him off more. The voices he heard moments ago became louder. As if they were right in front of him. 

"What do we got boys?" The unknown male asked, a few responded. "We don't know yet, Sir. Agent Carter and Rogers think he might be in association with Hydra. He had a fake press badge on him, along with a few things that are not from around here, and he was asking about Mr. Stark, Sir." Dean couldn't help himself, but a light scoff was heard from the back of the truck. "Look, can we get this friggin' thing off my freakin' head?!" Dean's voice was raised, it was not the time to be making demands.. But Dean Winchester wasn't exactly known for his patience. 

Truth be told, he was irritated with this whole situation. It was also a misunderstanding which could have been easily avoided, had they just simply asked him. Things were never that easy though. And why the hell was no one answering him? Everyone was talking in a hushed tone. Almost a whisper but not quite that quiet. "Hello? Am I talkin' to myself here?" The irritability was evident in his tone. 

"Alright son, get him out of there. Set him up in a room." Dean was quick to object. "A room? Come on guys is that even necessary right now?" Hearing two men climb into the back of the truck, the footsteps and vibrations coming closer. The hunter obviously put up a struggle. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. Though it was useless, he had to try. 

After being set down into a chair, the black bag was pulled off his head, and he was finally able to see his surroundings. Wincing from the change of darkness to light, he could feel the shiner on his face.. Which caused a groan. The room wasn't much to look at. The walls were white and the bright light wasn't helping the headace he had. Sucking in his lower lip, he could taste his own blood. He must of bit his lip after getting hit. His swollen lip was the evidence from that. 

Two men in military uniforms cuffed the hunter's ankles to the metal chair he was forced to sit on to. The ropes binding his wrists, were cut. Setting him free. Probably one of their biggest mistakes yet. He'll use that to his own personal advantage later. Rubbing one of his wrists, the hunter leaned back in his seat. After the two men left closing the door behind them, Dean was to quick to feel his person. 

Switchblade, gone. Lock pick, also gone. The picture that he kept of his mother and Sam? Gone. Everything on his person was removed. There were other ways of getting out of this, it was just going to take a little more time. Hazel greens move up once he heard the doorknob being turned from the other side. Now in a more relaxed position, the hunter had a smirk that tugged on the corner of his mouth. He liked to call it his shit eatin' grin. Something he's mastered over the years. This made the colonel chuckle. 

Sitting across from Dean, they were having a stare down. "Now, Mr. Miller is it?" The colonel asked, he started off in a nice tone. "Judgin' by your fake badge, I'm thinking that's not your name, now is it, son?" Dean shifted his position, remaining quiet. This wasn't the man he wanted to talk to. It wasn't someone who had valuable interest to him at the moment. 

"Son, you'd make this a hell of a lot easier if you talk. It makes it to where I don't have to guess. I don't like playin' games or beatin' around the bush─" Dean cut him off right there. "Looks like we have something in common then, don't we?" The colonel let out a sigh, "What are your intentions here, Mr.─" Dean rolled his eyes before he could finish. 

"Look man, I know you're gonna try to get some answers out of me but the guy I'm wanting to talk to is the dude in tights." Dean's lips pursed slightly, arms on the table as he leaned forward. "Get me spangle douche and I'll start talkin'." The colonel narrowed his eyes. The disrespect that was coming from the male across the table was making him form opinions of his own. He was hesitant about bringing Rogers into the room with this kid, but seeing how reluctant he was.. 

He might've had no choice. But Rogers had no training in interrogating someone. He was just a prop and a waste of serum. But Peggy saw something in the guy. With a heavy sigh, the colonel got up. Mumbling some curses under his breath as he left the room, slamming the door behind him. Which caused a smirk on Dean's lips. 

He was entertained. He managed to piss off some dude in a matter of minutes. That was easy. With a light sigh of his own, the eldest Winchester held his head in his hands. The headache he had might've been taking a toll on him, he's had worse.. But it was obvious he had a minor concussion. 

Minutes passed. No one was coming into the room and without anything to keep his focus off of sleeping, he was failing at that. Clearing his throat, he sat back in his seat. His eyes began to flutter, soon closing... Until he heard the door knob turn. His eyes shot open, he was almost thankful for that. But his eyes grew wider as he saw who it was. Captain America. 

Restrain yourself, Dean. And so came back his unreadable expression, which changed into a curious one as the brunette he saw from earlier slipped into the room. A woman of authority always seemed to pique his interest, along with other things. Steve on the other hand, had a speech prepared for this heathen. And to think, he was an American. He should be ashamed of himself. Taking a glance at his hand all sly like, he already forgot his name. 

"John Miller is it?" Steve started, "I hear you wanted to talk with me.. But I think it would be easier if I asked you some questions first, and then you can ask me your questions, would that be alright?" Taking a glance back at Peggy, she gave him a nod of confirmation. She was just there to be his support.. And also in case things decided to go south. 

Dean rolled his eyes, that wasn't his name. "Look. Let's flip that around. I'll ask the questions here, and as soon as I get my answers, I'll answer yours." Swiping his tongue over the swollen bump on his lower lip, hazel greens met that sky blue gaze that belonged to the soldier. "And for starters, My name ain't John Miller. It's Dean Winchester." The soldier stiffened, "Alright, Dean. I'm afraid you're going to have to answer my questions first. What are your intentions here?" 

And we were right back to square one. Jesus fucking Christ. "My intentions? I don't have any intentions. Well no─" Dean paused, a sly grin slowly crept along his features. "That's a lie. I might have an intention of taking Miss Carter over there out on a date. I mean, unless you two are screwin' around on the side." Gesturing between the two with his index finger as he spoke those last few words. And judging by the looks of it, he already pissed the "soldier" off. More like man in tights. He almost snorts at the thought. 

"You think you're funny? There is a lady present, Mr. Winchester. You will watch your language." Steve gave the hunter a warning. This man was rude and inappropriate. A combination the soldier didn't like, nor appreciated. Steve was done messing around. 

"You're disappointing your country as an American. You should be doing everything in your power to do what you can for it. Instead, you're not enlisted and you're making jokes, when it's you who are the joke." Every few words, the super soldier was looking at his hand. "Do your country proud and answer the question, Winchester. What are your intentions here?" 

"I think I'm adorable." Lips pursed slightly as he looked up at the soldier. He did just as he said, he answered one of the questions. Though, it probably wasn't the one he wanted answered. "You're disappointing it by dancing around in tights. You're not who I thought you─" Dean paused, he caught the man in tights. He was looking at his hand, was this dude reading notes off his hand? 

"Dude, what are you doing?" Steve had been caught, the best thing to do was to avoid it. It never happened, folding his arms over his chest. He was hiding the evidence. "Are you reading notes off your hand?" God, this guy was pathetic. "Seriously?" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. His frustration was beginning to get the best of him. "Alright, spangle dork. Cut the bullshit." Now glaring at the soldier, "I don't have time for this shit." Dean's words caused Peggy to move forward, getting in the hunter's face. Causing a devious smirk to stretch across his face. 

"I'm more of a fan with this type of behavior in the bedroom, sweetheart." Before another word was said, the brunette threw her hand forward whipping it across his face. The crack of skin contacting skin echoed off the walls in the room. Steve wasn't shocked, Dean on the other hand.. He was suprised. Bringing his hand up to the fire on his cheek, he chuckled. "Noted. You like it rough." 

Moving his gaze back to the soldier, he raised a brow. Waiting for a response. "Alright, you wanna talk? Fine. Keep the language appropriate, and keep your eyes off Agent Carter." Steve dared to pull a chair up and sat across from the hunter. He didn't have a bad feeling about the stranger across from him. He didn't have that bad guy vibe. He had something else about him that was off though. 

Dean took a glance towards the female. "Deal. She's gotta go though. I can't focus and keep my eyes off of her at the same time." Steve turned to look at the brunette, giving her the okay by a simple nod. She was hesitant to leave the room, but she knew Steve could handle this. And so he did. After the brunette left, it was just the two of them. "Start talking." This was going to be hard to explain, wasn't it? 

"Your guys had it right. The crap I had on me? Not from here. Not exactly, they were made in the US but─" Dean paused, moving his tongue over his lip again as he looked down. He shook his head, he was going to sound like a freakin' lunatic. "Look, I'm not from here." His gaze moved up. "I'm not from this time. I'm from the year 2011. I'm just trying to get back to my decade, man. And I thought y'know.. Bein' you know Mr. Stark, maybe he could figure somethin' out.. I just wanna go home dude."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know it might not seem like anything is happening between the two, but I really wanted this to be a slow build.
> 
> Just remember patience is important.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are a little hard to believe. One minute this guy's a journalist and the next he's a nut. Talking about hunting things that are not animals seems a little off, doesn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys! I am so sorry I took so long! I had a bit of a muse drop and I've been to the hospital twice these past few weeks annnd my anxiety hasn't been helping.

Steve took a moment to process everything this man had just said. There was a feeling of concern, this Dean character sounded insane. He almost felt as if he belonged in the nut house.. But something told the soldier that this Dean guy was telling the truth. "You don't believe me, do ya?" Dean's question pulling the male away from his own thoughts. 

With a sympathetic sigh, the soldier shook his head. "To me, it is hard to believe.. But I also don't think you're a spook for Hydra—" As the hunter's brows furrowed, deep lines formed on his forehead. There was the question for what the hell a spook was but also much more for Stark. "Look—" Dean paused, swiping his tongue over his lower lip before he pulled it back with his teeth. "I know things, man. I know a crap ton about you. You were my hero.. Until I saw you dancing and reading lines off the back of your shield—" Steve almost objected, but Dean held his hand up. 

"The year I come from, you just woke up.. From a pretty intense ice nap. You're a hero there. You're a part of this thing called 'The Avengers'. It's kinda ridiculous. Stark's kid created it.. You're not singin' and dancing, dude. You're puttin' that super serum to work and making your country proud.. Unlike what you're doin' here. This—" Dean paused again, "This is just sad." 

Steve looked at the hunter in disbelief, he also struck a nerve. "I am doing what I need to be doing. I'm doing what I've been told to do—" Dean interrupts the soldier, leaning forward. "Exactly, dude. You're a dancing monkey, listening to your superiors who are making you look like a freakin' joke. You're wasting it. And shit is gonna hit the fan. I'm giving you a heads up, dude. You're gonna lose your best friend, and her—" 

Pointing at the brunette who left the lovely red hand print across his face, "She's gonna get old and you're not. You're gonna stay the same." The soldier's jaw tensed with anger. "Look, you can get mad at me all you want, I'm just tellin' you how it is. I got a younger brother. His names Sam. He was supposed to figure this crap out months ago. I keep sendin' him letters but I have no idea if he's gettin' 'em. I have no idea if something happened to him.. He's the only family I got left and it's my job to be there and care for him. It's always been my job.. And I can't do it if I'm stuck in this crap of a decade— No offense.." 

Steve turned around to take a glance at the brunette who stood there slacked jaw. She didn't want to believe it.. There was no way. "What is it you do, Mr. Winchester? How did you—" The agent paused, "How are you here?" Pulling a chair up next to the soldier, her gaze was intense. It almost intimidated the hunter. Almost. Dean was of course hesitant. If he admitted to what he did, they'd definitely send him to the nut house. 

"I uh—" He looked down for a moment, shaking his head he then let out half a sigh. "I hunt things." The agent and soldier had a similar look of confusion on their features. "You're a hunter? As in you hunt animals for a living?" Dean just couldn't help himself as a groan slipped. "No. Demons. Monsters. Ghosts. Time travling pieces of shi—" Catching the glare from the soldier, Dean stopped himself from finishing that word. 

Clearing his throat. "Shape shifters, vamps. You name it, I've probably ganked it." Peggy gave the 'hunter' a nod. "I see." Offering a faint smile, she scoots back from the table. Getting up from her seat, she politely pushed her chair back in. "I will be back momentarily." Dean knew that look all too well. She didn't believe him, this chick was probably leaving to go get the other asshole who tried to question him first. 

And he was left with spangle dork who in which was still staring at him in disbelief. "What? You don't believe me either?" Dean let out a scoff as the monkey in front of him was having a hard time answering him. "It does sound a little crazy, don't you think so?" Steve asked, his eyes never leaving the male in front of him. 

"You don't think I don't know that?" There was frustration in the hunter's tone, sitting back in his seat. "You don't think that whole super serum doesn't sound like a bunch of bull shit?" Dean's hazel green gaze locked with the soldier's, glaring at him. "With them fixing you up the way they did?" The soldier's jaw tensed. "Language." Steve spoke with a stern tone.

"No, screw your language dude. Where'd the chick go?" There was tension between the two, the two men glared at each other. Dean also asked a valid question, where did Peggy go, and why was she gone for so long? In reality, she was only gone for thirty minutes.. But when you're having an intense stare down with someone, thirty minutes feels like an hour. Dean's focus had been taken away from the soldier as the brunette had stepped in with two large men. 

Two very large men. On the inside Dean may have been a little nervous but on the outside, he kept the scowl on his features. "This is Tom and Richard. They will be taking you back to your hotel." Dean didn't believe that for a minute. Lips pursed slightly, his eyes narrowed. "Steve, Colonel Phillips would like to talk with you." Giving the brunette a nod, Steve got up and left the room. The two men walk over to the eldest Winchester, lifting him up from the metal chair. 

One man unchained Dean from the chair while the other cuffed the hunter's hands behind his back. Dean couldn't help himself but to chuckle lightly. "That's a little tight there isn't it, hoss? You wouldn't want me to lose circulation now would ya?" The hunter asked, and in response Richard loosened the cuffs. What a mistake. They really must not be used to people escaping from handcuffs in this day and age. Oh, how things were different in this time. 

Dean decided it was appropriate to cooperate, for now. Letting the two men push him to a truck, a grunt followed after the last shove. Jaw clenching with what little patience the hunter had, it was wearing thin. With some assistance, Dean sat down on one of the benches in the cab of the truck. The two men accompanied him, sitting across from the male. Leaning back, the hunter looked at the two with a grin stretched across his lips as the truck started. 

"So uh, let's be honest with each other fellas. We're not goin' back to the hotel, are we?" The two men took a quick glance towards each other then back to the eldest Winchester. "No." They both said at the same time, Dean chuckled lightly giving the two a nod. "Didn't think so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left a lovely little cliffhanger for you all. Gotta love it, am I right? Haha. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. I am going to try to have the next one up much quicker than this one. Again, I'm sorry about the wait.
> 
>  
> 
> •••I do not own any of the characters associated with this story.•••


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long again!!
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this chapter, annnnd I do not own any of the characters in this story.
> 
> Feedback would be awesome buut I might be nervous for that lol. Doesn't hurt to have it though.

What these two idjits failed to realize is this is Dean Friggin' Winchester. The hunter already had a plan in mind that he was working on while he dislocated his wrists, freeing himself from the handcuffs. Keeping his hands behind his back, as the two had a conversation. Dean was paying more attention to details. Details like how big these two were, potential weak spots, where they kept a weapon, and when the moment would be right to make his great escape and get the hell outta here. 

He just needed to know when. "Hey--" Dean lifts his head up as the beefy soldier spoke. "Who's the gal in the picture?" Dean had a moment of confusion, what picture was he talking about? And then realization hit. And it hit hard. Jaw tensed, Dean glared at the soldier who decided to ask. "Hey, calm down now. I'm just asking. You know, being you're going to be locked away.. I figured I could step in. This your kid?" Jaw clenching, the soldier smirked. He knew he struck a nerve, and that made him continue. 

"This kid know his dad's lost his marbles? How 'bout your wife? Things I would do to her--" The other soldier interrupts, "Hey, c'mon now. You're pissin' him off, Scott." The soldier let out a harsh snort. "And? What does it matter to me? He's just some nut. He's never gonna see 'em again." All Dean could see was red. Now was the time, moving vehicle or not. As the soldier chuckled about his remark, Dean lunged for the male. Punches were thrown, hitting the soldier in the jaw. Knowing he almost broke it. 

The other soldier yelling at Dean to get off, but he couldn't hear words right now. Just the pounding in his chest and the rage pumping inside his veins that built up these past few hours. That soldier's words were muffled. Scott managed to get a few swings in, but it was no match for the hunter. He could take a few hits, they didn't phase him. It wasn't until the other soldier made an attempt to pull the hunter off from behind, making Dean reach back and elbow him in the nose. Breaking the soldier's nose, causing him to stumble backwards, and fall out of the truck.. 

Grabbing Scott's gun from his holster, Dean stepped back. Pointing the gun towards Scott. Wiping his nose from the blood that streamed down on to his lips. Sniffing back some blood, he let out a breathy, humorless chuckle. "Y'know--" Another breathy chuckle. "You're combat skills kinda suck, dude." Sucking the blood off his lip, "Who has the picture and the rest of my crap?" He asked, brows raised and lips slightly pursed. 

"The guys at the base." So cooperative. "Alright. Get out." Dean motioned the gun at the back, "What?" Scott shook his head, "Get the hell out!" The gun moving back to it's previous position, pointing at the soldier, this time pulling the hammer back on the gun. Scott held his hands up surrendering, walking to the opening in the truck. Jumping out there was a subtle grunt heard as he dropped to the ground. The sound of the moving truck muffled it. 

Now Dean needed another plan. There were two more men up front, who more than likely had guns on their person as well. "Shit.." He mumbled to himself, ignoring the throbbing pain in his head. Taking a peek through the tarpaulin, he let out a sigh. He was going to have to wait. They're still on a dirt road, he needed to wait until they were back in the city. Sitting on the bench, he leaned back for a minute. Closing his eyes, he was going through everything that had happened today. First thing's first, Captain America /was/ a joke. Parading around in those tights? Embarrassing. But they did look good though, didn't they? And those piercing blue eyes? 

They were much different than the set he was used to at home. These had a tint of green surrounding the pupil, and they were.. Cool. Clearing his throat, he hunched over, leaning on his knees. Eyes still closed, he was trying to ignore the headache that throbbed away. Minutes passed until he felt a bump. The sound of gravel leaving, he let out a sigh of relief. Peeking through the tarp one last time, he took a glance at his surroundings. Back in the city, this tuck and roll was going to hurt. Slipping that gun between the waistband of his jeans, he jumped out of the truck. Grunting as he landed on his shoulder, he was going to feel that in the morning.. Among other things as well. Dusting off, it as almost good to be back. Not really, but it was better than being held up in a white room. 

God, he was thirsty. Hazel greens scanned the area, seeing a bar he made his way over. Walking in through the entrance, slow jazz was being played along with a little blonde singing on stage. Classy, Dean thought to himself. Taking a seat at the bar, the hunter ordered his usual. Straight whiskey, no ice. Once the bartender came back with a glass, the hunter threw it back. The warm amber liquid burning his throat, he let out a quiet grunt from the burn. Turning in his seat, he took a look around. Leaning back against the countertop, listening to the woman sing. 

She's not too shabby. Taking in a long, deep breath he slowly exhaled. He couldn't go back to the hotel, they'd be looking for him without a doubt. He didn't have a car either. Dean was kind of shit out luck at the moment. Turning back around, he ordered another drink. A couple hours later and a bit of a buzz, Dean left the bar. 

In those few short hours, Steve was sent in to get the hunter. Given specific orders to start at the hotel. And like the good soldier he was, he obeyed. "Steve—" Peggy started, the soldier shook his head. "I'll be fine." He reassured her. "No need to worry." Offering a soft smile, a hint of a sparkle in his blue eyes in the dimmed light. "He seems to trust you more than I." She admits, looking down with a subtle grin. "He has a goal set out in his mind." The male admits, "It's something I can understand. I relate to it. I've had goals set out for myself.. His goals are just to go home." Looking down, the soldier might have had a sympathetic look on his features he didn't want the brunette to see. 

"Steve—" She started again. "I know what you're thinking. His story is very unfortunate, but it's quite impossible." Steve took a moment, "Look, I know a liar when I see one.. And he didn't look like one.. I think there's more to the story here.. You two just aren't listening to him. He isn't even a Russian, Peggy.. He's an American.." Steve continued on, Peggy looked at him for a moment. "He's trouble, Steve. A man with a pretty face like his, and an attitude like that is trouble. I know what you're thinking... Don't do it." 

The soldier took a glance towards the agent, "Yeah he's pretty." He was thinking outloud, "Steve—" She pressed on the matter, "No. No he's trouble. You're right. I understand." Giving the brunette a nod, he grinned. "My mission is to get him and bring him back. I've always wanted to be a delivery boy." He chuckled lightly, Peggy couldn't help herself but to frown. "He had a point you know.. It was like he read my mind.. I'm supposed to be out there.. Fighting the war, and yet here I am.. Dancing on stages.. Putting this serum to waste..."  
    

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As the hunter went on his little adventure, he muttered some stuff to himself. Lucky enough not to bump into anyone while he did. Across the street from him was his hotel. Leaning against a pole, he scanned the area. Looking for any type of military vehicle or a person dressed up in a uniform. What he didn't expect was the one in tights. Tilting his head to the side, a brow raised with interest. "The hell is he doin' here?" Did they really send /him/ in? Holding in his chuckles for now. 

Buzzed, he knew he could handle this. He's fought demons when drunk before, he knows /exactly/ what he's doing here. No, not really. He doesn't have Sam around to stop him, does he? Nope. Clearing his throat, he made his way across the street. Entering the hotel, he took a glance around. One guess where spangle dork was. It would have been smart to run, but let's be honest here.. Dean wasn't feeling too smart at the moment. Drinking might've had an effect on that. 

Taking an elevator to his room, he watched and listened as the bell chimed, checking off each floor as the car went up. The doors opened once arriving to his floor, taking a look around he stepped out of the elevator. Pulling his room key out of his pocket, this one being a copy from the other.. Due to him not getting his crap back.. Eyes narrowing, Dean sobered up a bit. Molding into the wall next to his door, he listened. His breathing fell silent, not wanting to miss anything just in case. The soldier's footsteps were a bit on the heavy side, a memory popped up in the hunter's mind. Not exactly a great one. 

__________________________

"Your feet are too loud, dude." A younger Dean spoke in an irritated tone, causing a younger Sam to let out a sigh. "How do I even make my steps lighter? I don't get it.." Sam took a glance down at his feet, a frown appearing on the younger Winchester's features. "First of all--" Dean paused as he walked over to his younger brother. "Lose the frown. You're not a baby anymore and you look like you're gonna cry. Toughin' up. Second, you don't drag your feet. You drag your feet a demon's gonna hear you from a mile away and you'll be gone quicker than you can say 'holy shit'. Pick up your feet but when you place your foot down, be gentle. Don't just drop it." Watching as his younger brother made another attempt, he was finally getting it. 

A smile spreading across his features, "Like this, Dean?" The youngest Winchester felt a sense of accomplishment as his older brother nodded. "Yeah, just like that, Sammy. You're doin' better." Taking a seat on the bed in the motel room, Dean went back to reading his comic. "Maybe I'll get to go on the hunt with you and dad now that I fixed this--" Not looking up from his comic, though he was listening, Dean shook his head. 

"You're too young to go, Sammy. You know that--" His little brother interrupted, "But Dean, you said--" Dean looked up, hazel greens narrowed at the boy. "You'd just be getting in the way Sam-- you'd get hurt.. We've already lost mom.. Losing you would make things worse than they already are. Just drop it." The annoyance was back in his tone, a small Sam looked down. Dean was always bringing up their mom.. Sam almost felt as if Dean blamed him for her death. "Alright, Dean.." Sam spoke in a soft, timid tone not wanting to anger his older brother anymore.

__________________________ 

The memory was like a punch to the gut.. One thing he always regretted was being a dick to his younger brother. This wasnt the time to dwell on the past. Dean had to worry about tge present time. The matter at hand. Sliding his key into the keyhole, Dean unlocked the door. At the moment, he didn't care. The memory hit him pretty hard and it was definitely affecting his judgement and actions. Closing the door behind him, hazel greens scanned the room. 

"Alright Spangle Douche, come out." An awkward Steve had been caught.. And he knew it right as he heard the key unlocking the lock. Hands held up to surrender, the blonde stepped out of the bathroom. The hunter's brow raised, "Lemme guess--" Dean walked over to the mini bar he had made the room's desk to be, and poured himself a drink. 

"They sent you to come and get me because I just happened to escape dumb and dumber?" Leaning back against the desk, taking a sip of the whiskey he had just poured himself. His brows soon furrow, just realizing the Cap had his hands up to surrender. "Dude--" Dean shook his head as it dropped. Groaning in annoyance, this was not the Captain America he knew, and he was becoming more disappointed by the second. "What..?" A confused soldier looked at the hunter. "Have I done something to offend you..?" 

Dean's gaze moved up, "Yeah, yeah you have. You--" The hunter's tongue swiped over his lower lip before his teeth pulled it back, head shaking again. "Put your hands down, you look like a friggin' idiot right now." Setting his drink down, the soldier took offense to the name calling. Why was this stranger so harsh and crude? Dropping his hands, there was a definite scowl on the soldier's features. "Something serious had to of broken you because the Captain America I know from back home? He wasn't a joke.. This guy that I'm lookin' at--" His hand motioning towards the soldier, "A monkey in tights. Why are you letting this serum go to waste?" The hunter asked, picking up the drink; having another sip. "How do you know about the serum?" Steve was curious, he wanted to know what he knew. 

He just wanted answers really. "Look, where I come from.. There's a museum in New York that's dedicated to you.. And the 107th Infantry Regiment.. Your buddy James was a part of it and the dude didn't make it.. You though--" Pointing at the soldier, "You gotta crappy story, dude." Dean chuckled, "Born with half the shit you were born with you wouldn't of made it to thirty. But with that serum.. You got trapped in ice.. Guess they defrosted ya and you're a guy who looks my age in the year 2011.. Some sci-fi crap, I know." Folding his arms over his chest, Dean rolled his eyes at the look the soldier was giving him. "Yeah, believe it or not.. I'm startin' to get used to that look right now.." 

The soldier needed a second of his own, this did in fact sound strange and unnatural. But was he not the same way? Going from just as Dean had mentioned, a sick young man to a healthy one.. Taller and no health risks? Someone who was able to run and keep up with the rest of the guys now? Indeed, it was something almost from a book or a film. "You know about Buck-- James?" That was the question that had been on his mind.. He hadn't heard any news about his best friend and it had concerned the soldier. "You said he didn't make it..?" Dean nodded, "Something to do with you and a train.." Dean admitted, now feeling like a dick. 

Sam was right, he is a dick. And seeing the look on Spangly tights.. Well, it made him feel shittier. "Could be wrong though, right? I mean I guess it really depends on if you actually believe me or not." The soldier's eyes moved to the side. "I might, but that isn't going to change their opinion or mind about you, Dean.. I know a liar when I see one.. You might be a liar but not about this.. That's what my gut is telling me.. And I surely hope it's not wrong.." His icy blue gaze moved back to the hunter. "It's not my decision to take you back in, Dean.. But I have orders to." 

Dean's eyes narrowed, "You can try. But I got more important things to worry about. And I'm startin' to think going to a supposed hero was one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made in my life." Steve was torn.. Does he follow orders or what he felt was the right thing? This stranger was absolutely right, he felt like a monkey just following orders.. And that he was letting Dr. Erskine down.. Not to mention the hunter's words had hit him hard.. Being a disappointment to someone was something he didn't like nor take well to. 

"Okay." Steve nodded, "But fill me in on what it is you do exactly, because with that you have me confused.. And it most certainly doesn't help with your time traveling story." And that's all that Dean needed. Someone else to at least try to believe in what he was saying.. So he started from the beginning, from being the chosen vessel for Michael. Meeting angels, Dean made sure to mention how much of a dick they are. Feeling as if a certain one back home wasn't listening to his prayers.. The hunter even opted to summon a certain Demon named Meg, which he told the soldier all about but would never stoop that low. 

First impressions with the bitch weren't the best. Some words the hunter used made the soldier cringe, Dean wasn't sorry. "Been doin' this for awhile.. And I've never been away from my brother this long before. And even if I was, we were always in touch. I got ways of keeping in touch with him, but he can't give me any updates.." The hunter moved to a chair, rubbing his temple with two fingers as his eyes closed for a moment. "I've tried prayin' to Cas.. I'm just worried I'm praying to a different Cas than I'm used to having.. And that's just more confusing--" 

Steve interrupted, "No that would make sense. You're in a different time, he wouldn't know who you are, being you haven't been born yet.. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." Dean waved the soldier's apology off dismissively, "Have you tried looking for your mother or your father?" Dean looked down, a breathy chuckle falling past his lips. "No, I haven't.. But it'd be a waste of time considerin' they weren't even born yet." Jesus, that sounded so strange coming out of his mouth. 

"Although, I haven't tried my grandfather yet.. But uh, he's a great big bag of dicks.." Letting out a soft sigh as he looked down at the now empty glass. "It seems to me you can't trust him... Is that correct?" Steve asked, brows furrowed. Giving the soldier a nod, "He's uh, I mean the guy just wanted his family back but how he went about it.. It was wrong. Guy ends up working for this dick named Crowley, who thinks he's the king of hell.. But he's the biggest pain in my ass lately. And that was just last year.. For me it was at least.. I've had to deal with my grandfather more than I'd ever want to in a friggin' life time. The dude didn't like me in the future and I'm pretty sure he won't here in the past." 

Steve couldn't help himself but to stare with a jaw dropped. King of hell, angels, Lucifer-- To someone else, this man sitting in front of him would have been legally considered insane.. There was a moment of silence between the two.. Steve looked down, something in him was telling him to help this man out.. Most of it was his gut, the other part.. Well, that part was the other side that Peggy had told him not to start.. Because he was pretty. And pretty meant trouble.. Moving his gaze up, icy blues met hazel greens. "How can I help?"


End file.
